“AS LONG AS HE WAS ON THE OPEN plain in the clear light of the chill winter day, he felt no fear. The land cloud lay ahead of him, heaving slowly in the wind. It formed a clearly defined mass, as wide as a valley but no higher at its highest point than the taller trees in the Glimmen. It was grayish white in color and seemed to be made of roll upon roll of vapor, not at all like the hazy mist that hangs over water meadows on an autumn morning. The land cloud was heavy and brooding and silent. He... thought as he went about the danger that faced him in the cloud and about how he would meet it. He was confident of his own strength, less so of his resolve. His mission was to kill. He had never killed before and was not sure he would be able to do it. These enemies, these savanters, these lords of wisdom, were old and weak; and yet somehow they were more powerful than the Nomana themselves and threatened the very survival of the Nom. So he must have no pity. Leave one alive and it will all begin again.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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